One, Big, Dysfunctional Family
by x Rajah x
Summary: When Collins wins a vacation getaway, the Bohos will embark upon a journey that proves that they really are one heck of a crowd. Which we already knew. One can only imagine what sort of hilarity will present itself. ANGEL LIVES! All canon couples.
1. It Seemed Like the Nice Thing To Do

**Title: **One, Big, Dysfunctional Family

**Rating: **T for language. And because most RENT fics are rated T, anyway. Nothing new. At least to you, probably. I'm not big on cussing, especially the F word. So this'll be alien territory to me. X(

**Genre: **Humor

**Summary: **When Collins wins a vacation getaway and all the bohos tag-along, they learn that they really are one heck of a crowd, among other things.

**Notes: **Hello… I am the recently dubbed Captain Amminergeon. (Bows) You may have known me by Jedi Master Arie Skywalker in the past, but as I have switched fandoms, a new penname was needed for a fresh start.

This is my first full-length RENT story. (Gasp)

**It's postRENT, but Angel lives… because I need her. **

**Special thanks: **To my brother, my cousin Sarah, and a wonderful author of here by the penname of Stephanie Pascal. The three of you are… well, quite a combination when it comes to inspiring the humor juices to flow through my brain. XD

**What's Good: **I'm truly convinced that RENT has changed my life.

**What's Bad: **Homework.

**--------**

**Chapter 1**

A single drumstick reached out and prodded the figure sprawled over the moth-eaten blankets.

"Are you sure he's _alive_, Mark?" Collins asked pointedly, watching his lover poke the shoulder of Roger Davis.

"He's snoring… which I don't think you can do when you're dead." Mark called back from the kitchen area, where he was making coffee.

"Daaaaammmmmmn." Collins stretched out the word for emphasis, before leaning down and positioning his mouth several inches from Roger's ear.

"Baby, don't you'll burst the poor boy's eardrums." Angel warned Collins, looking rather worried.

Either Collins didn't hear her or chose to ignore it.

"YO, ROG!" He shouted, his deep voice booming throughout the loft. "GET YOUR LAZY WHITE BOY ASS UP BEFORE I HAVE TO RESORT TO DRASTIC MEASURES!"

Angel winced, covering her ears. "Collins!" She shrieked, staring wild-eyed at the rocker on the couch, expecting him to jump at least ten standard feet into the air.

"Mmmmm…" Roger mumbled, and he flopped over, dangling his feet off the sides of the couch. Snores continued to rumble from beneath the blanket.

Collins shook his head, eyes cold. "ROGER DAVIS!"

Nothing.

"It won't work. I've tried, trust me. Roger's like a goddamn boulder in the morning." Mark came in and sat upon a chair, sipping from a mug.

Collins sighed, and then said more quietly. "Hey Roger! Mimi's coming back in a little bit…" He waggled his eyebrows for effect. "Your _girlfriend. Mimi._"

Silence. A cricket chirped.

"DAMN YOU, CRICKET!" Collins yelled, "You think you can mock me as SUCH???!!! Well, I am Thomas B. Collins, and I WILL CONQUER YOU!"

Angel tapped Collins' shoulder. "Hey, baby… what if we just wait for Roger to get up? I mean, he might be tired, and probably just needs his rest. After his gig last night, he's probably exhausted."

"EXHAUSTED, MY ASS!" Collins screamed. "There is no excuse. He needs to learn that normal people don't sleep this long…" He paused and glanced at the clock. "It's nearly noon!"

"Well, honey, maybe Mimi'll wake him up when she gets here."

"Ang, Mimi's bringing her _parents_ here for lunch." Collins said pointedly. "He's never met them before. Don't you think he's probably going to want to look at least remotely presentable?"

"He doesn't give a rat's ass what he looks like, Collins." Mark said into his cup.

"Well, I will not have Mr. and Mrs. Marquez coming into my crib with this _fat ass_ snoozing on the couch, crampin' my style, you dig?"

Mark choked and spit up the hot liquid he'd been in the process of swallowing, along with a decent sized hairball. "What the-?"

Angel stared down at the fuzzy mass that had just exploded from Mark, now splattered onto the floor. Her eyes traveled up to Mark's face.

"It's not what it looks like, I swear!" Mark said nervously.

Collins, meanwhile, had not noticed, and had continued to glare daggers at his friend who lay limp upon the couch. "I didn't want to have to do this… you are a dear friend, Roger."

"Baby…" Angel started.

"NO! HE DESERVES THIS, ANGEL!" Collins cried, and he swung his foot backward, and swiftly connected it with Roger's back, ramming it stiffly between his shoulder blades.

Mark cringed. "Collins…"

"Shhhh!" Collins held up a hand, watching Roger's still form expectantly.

Roger arched his back and rolled over, stretching. Collins looked triumphantly. "See, I told you it would…"

But he was cut off by another snore, as Roger had flipped over, his stomach now facing up.

"I give up." Collins said, almost tearfully. "Must he cause me such despair?"

"It comes with the package." Mark told him.

Angel, meanwhile, was smiling. "I have an idea."

"What, baby?"

"I could jump on him…." Angel said; an uncharacteristically evil grin on her face. "……….in stilletos."

Mark nearly coughed up another hairball as Collins stared incredulously at Angel. Angel… with a brilliantly evil idea? It seemed unfathomable.

Angel, sensing their shock, quickly added, "And say sorry afterwards."

"That's MY GIRL!" Collins exclaimed, falling backward to sit beside Mark on the couch. "I gotta see this."

Angel, now determined, withdrew a pair of ultra-shiny silver stilletos from her bag and began to secure them around her feet.

"Damn, Ang, those things look fucking dangerous." Collins remarked, eyeing the three-and-a-half inch heels.

Angel paused, and then seemed to think for a minute. "You know, I think it would probably be better in this case if I didn't close these clasps." She pointed to the shoe.

"You sound like you speak from experience." Mark noted casually, suppressing a laugh.

"And how do you know I don't, Marky?" Angel said sweetly.

She then stood to her full height, now increased by the monstrous, outrageously tall heels. "Ready?"

Mark rubbed his hand together. "Do it."

Collins suddenly screamed. "NO! WAIT! I wanna make popcorn!"

But Angel was already in the air. Time seemed to move slowly she descended, her spiked heels making contact with Roger, and Collins and Mark's eyes glued to the scene.

Angel half-fell out of the unbuckled shoes, her tear-filled eyes roving between the form of her sleeping friend and her now bare feet.

Then, a god-awful yowl filled everyone's ears, and Roger was on his feet, screaming various curse words that he knew and some he made up.

"OW, FUCK!" He yelled; trying desperately to see what was causing him such pain. Mark's teeth were gritted and he looked mildly sympathetic.

Collins… was laughing his ass off, rolling around on the floor.

Angel stared up at Roger, frozen, as Roger managed to tug one of the heels from where it had embedded itself in his back. He turned around, looking very much in pain.

"Haha, Collins…" He growled, as he struggled to reach the second heel. "You think you're so DAMN funny…"

"It wasn't him." Angel said, sadly.

Roger spun around. "What?"

"I'm so sorry…" Angel sobbed. "I didn't mean to really HURT you! I was trying to be helpful!" She put her face in her hands. "I WISH IT WAS ME WHO HAD THE HEELS IN MY BACK!"

Roger grimaced, and yanked the second shoe out. "Ahhhh…! Angel…?"

"I'm so sorry… Roger, I'm SO SORRY!" Angel wailed, "Will you ever FORGIVE ME?"

Roger, looking quite angry, suddenly softened, looking bewildered. "I… uh…."

Mark stood up, eyeing Roger's back. "Hey buddy, you may want to go put something on that." He pointed at Roger's back.

Roger winced, reaching an arm over his shoulder. "It's really that bad?"

"OH MY GOD! I GAVE ROGER A PERMANENT SCAR! WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME? I AM NOT WORTHY TO EVEN BE IN YOUR PRESENCE!" Angel curled up into a ball, refusing to meet Roger's eyes.

Collins stared at Roger for a moment before replying softly, "No, baby… Roger's okay… you didn't hurt him at all…" He sat down beside Angel and brought her into his arms. "Really baby, he's alright…. _RIGHT, ROGER?"_

Roger nodded, seeing the look in Collins' eyes. "Uh, yeahh… I'm alright. Just two bleeding puncture wounds, no big deal."

And Roger walked stiffly toward the bathroom. "I'll just…uh… wash up…"

The door slammed behind him.

"There, there… Angel, it's okay." Collins soothed her.

She hiccupped. "Collins, I put two fucking holes in my friends back… that is _NOT OKAY_."

Collins smiled. "But you got him up, didn't you? So you DID help, babe."

Angel sniffed. "I suppose."

Mark got up and walked toward the kitchen. "Hey Collins, what the hell are we feeding Mimi's parents anyway?"

"Delicious stale Captain Crunch, served in a grimy bowl that was used for Collins' toenail clippings?" Roger said, emerging from the bathroom. He had dressed himself in a decent outfit, but he still had a hand pressed to his back.

"Decidedly not." Mark said, picking up the box of cereal. "It expired two weeks ago… I'm going to throw it out."

"NO!" Collins shouted. "Are you fucking crazy? I'll eat it, toss it here."

_Sha-wham! _And the box landed in Collins' lap.

"Nice cartoon sound effect, Mark!" Roger complimented.

"Thanks, I've been working on it all week."

"Damn, boy, you have no life." Collins responded, ripping open the top seal of plastic bag containing the cereal.

Angel finally looked at Roger. "Roger, honey, be honest, did I hurt you?"

Roger sighed. "Yes, Angel. But I forgive you… because you are obviously sorry. Collins on the other hand, was laughing his ass off… because yes, putting Roger through excruciating pain is hilarious, isn't it, Thomas?"

"So damn hilarious…" The professor agreed, and Roger scowled. "Well, Roger, get your fast ass off the couch next time! I mean, we tried more peaceful measures, and it's not our fault you didn't heed."

Angel brightened a little. "Hey, Mimi will be here in a few minutes!"

"Fuck." Roger spat. "How the hell are we supposed to clean up this shithole in a few minutes?"

"Roger, you dumbass, we are not cleaning the loft. That's against our religion." Mark scolded.

"Alrighty, just let them think we live like animals, see if I care!" He shot back, obviously anxious about the visitors.

Collins meanwhile was staring down at the torn cardboard box in his hands. "HOLY SHIT!" he squealed.

"What?" The other three asked immediately.

"It says here: Win a vacation at Chitake Island Summer Resort in Florida!"

"Damn, who the hell would want to go to Shitcake Island?" Roger mused.

"_Chi-TAKE, _Roger!" Collins yelped excitedly. Then he continued to read. "See inside for details."

He proceeded to stuff his hands into the bag of stale cereal flinging bits of it in any given direction. Then in awe, his hands produced a small piece of paper.

"What the fuck?" Roger questioned, seeing the paper. "That box better say _Choking Hazard _or I'll get Joanne to sue Captain Crunch's fat blue ass!"

Collins, in complete awe, unfolded the paper.

_Congratulations. You are a winner!_

"HOLY CRUDMUFFINS!" Angel squealed, reading over Collins' shoulder, prompting several funny looks. "I mean, OH MY GOSH! COLLINS, YOU WON!"

"WHAT?" Roger and Mark exclaimed, standing up.

Collins' smile vanished. "Uh…. I won?"

"Nu-uh." Mark shook his head.

"Yes huh!" Collins said indignantly, waving the slip of paper around.

"NUH-UH!"

"YES HUH!"

"NUH-UH!"

"YES HUH!"

"NUH-UH!"

"YES FUCKING HUH, MARK!" Collins raged, shoving the evidence into Mark's face.

Mark slowly read the paper, as Roger approached from behind.

"_Conn...gradd...you…latt-eye-ons…" _Roger started to read.

"CONGRATULATIONS, Roger." Collins corrected.

"I SAID THAT!"

Mark meanwhile, had a murderous glint in his eye. "You… you…"

"Me? Me?" Collins said happily, "What, Mark? Aren't you going to congratulate me? I'm going to Chitake Island Resort!"

"No, you're not." Mark said, and he snatched the paper from Collins' fingers. "I am."

"You cannot have it, Mark!" Roger said, suddenly furious.

"And why not, Roger?"

"BECAUSE. I'm going, and that's final."

Angel meanwhile, shook her head and took out a nail file, busying herself with her fingernails.

Mark scoffed. "I think not, Roger Davis. I have the paper, and I'm going."

"I AM THE ONE WHO GOT IT, MARK LOUISE COHEN!" Collins shouted, spewing spit into Mark's face. "You were about to throw the damn cereal in the trash!"

He attempted to snatch the paper from Mark, but Mark was too quick.

"You've got it all wrong, Collins. It doesn't matter who got it… it's who calls this number…" He read the tiny scrap of paper. "And claims the prize that gets to go…"

And with that, Mark dove for the phone.

"NOOO!" There was a shout and a loud thud, as Roger sailed through the air and tackled Mark, sending the two of them sprawling to the ground.

"YES! It's mine, ROGER! And there's not a damn thing you can do about it!"

"Give me the paper, Mark. Don't make me hurt you." Roger said menacingly.

"I'm not afraid of you, Roger… you are obsessed with the ashes of your childhood teddy bear, for God's sake!"

"DON'T. YOU. DARE. BRING. HIM. INTO. THIS!" Roger roared, ripping the paper from Mark's hand. "I'm going to Shitcake Island, Mark… and you will not stop me."

"But I will." Collins said, standing over Roger as he rose from the floor.

Roger kissed the tiny piece of paper and laughed. "What are you going to do, Professor Collins? Throw a book at me?"

"Why…yes." And a decidedly thick encyclopedia flew through the air.

"How long have we had that?" Mark piped up.

Roger tumbled to the floor as the heavy book toppled him. "CURSE YOU, THOMAS B. COLLINS! YOU HAVE TAINTED MY SAINT-LIKE VISAGE WITH A CREASE THAT LOOKS ODDLY LIKE A BOOK!"

"Haha… that's what you get; Roger I-Steal-People's-Cereal-Box-Prizes-For-Kicks Davis!" Collins howled triumphantly, and regained the paper.

"Your celebratory shouts are misplaced, I'm afraid." A low, creepy, twisted version of Mark's voice sounded through the loft.

Collins turned.

Mark stood atop the metal table, looming over Collins. "SHA-BAM!" He yelled, doing a freakish karate kick and launching an aerial assault upon Collins.

He landed on top of Collins, prompting a loud _OOMPF! _

"Aw man… dammit, Mark… my spleen…" He gasped.

"To hell with it!" Mark said gleefully, taking the phone in one hand and starting to dial the number.

"Not so fast, Marky." Came Roger's voice. Roger swooped down upon the filmmaker, knocking the phone from his hand with a smile.

"You fiend!" Mark accused, hiding the treasured paper behind his back. "You will not stop me… I'm INVINCIBLE!"

Roger merely cocked an eyebrow before raising both of his arms over his head in arches, curving his fingers. He pulled back one of his legs, aiming for Mark and making a kung-fu karate-like scream.

"HI-YAH!" Mark yelled, pounding his fist into Roger's ribs.

Roger froze.

"Take that, you ROCK!" Mark said determinedly, his balled fists slamming into Roger's chest. "Haha, you cannot win!"

Roger merely smiled, bemused. "Damn, Mark. You really thought you could defeat me?"

Mark looked up, expecting to see Roger in pain, but merely saw a wicked grin.

"Oh shit…"

"Precisely." Roger replied, and with that said, he unfurled his arms and shoved Mark nearly six feet across the floor, simultaneously ripping the prize from his hand.

"And… _dingding! _Roger Davis takes the trophy!" He remarked, pressing the paper to his cheek.

But his triumph and victory were short-lived, as he heard a peculiar noise behind him.

He turned, shocked when the end of a long umbrella handle bonked his nose.

Collins stood, brandishing Mimi's leopard print umbrella at Roger. "Drop the paper and step out of your plaid pants."

"Damn, Collins… I'd never surrender my pants to you. The last time I did you put them in the wrong load of laundry and they faded pink!"

Collins shook his head. "Cut the crap, Davis and hand me the paper."

"NEVER!" Roger said protectively.

The professor's eyes widened. "Oh, now you'll be sorry."

A breath. Then…

"FLAME ON!"

Silence. A cricket chirped.

"DAMMIT, I thought I told that cricket to shut the fuck up!" Collins yelled.

Roger meanwhile, was clutching his sides with laughter. "Collins… the best… thing you can come…up with… to intimidate me… is… FLAME ON?"

"Oh, like you can talk, Rog. You're such an eloquent speaker."

"Hell yes, I'm a songwriter. Words are my game."

Collins lowered the umbrella. "And I'm a teacher. Do you know how many essays I grade?"

Roger shrugged. "I could still come up with a better catchphrase. I mean, Flame on? Dude, that's totally taken!"

"Who gives a shit?"

"Uh… the Human Torch?"

"Shut up, Mr. Poetic. You cannot do _squat _with words!"

"Uh… hello? Does the song _Your Eyes _ring a bell?"

Collins burst out laughing. "Oh Roger… _Your Eyes _was nothing, man. Nothing. I could've eaten a bowl of alphabet soup and _crapped _out a better song."

"Oh, is that how you're gonna play now?" Roger said, eyes flashing madly.

"If that's how you wish it to be, Davis."

Roger pounced, but Collins merely konked him in the head with the umbrella.

"OW!" Roger squealed, rubbing his hair. Tears sprung into the rocker's eyes. "You just killed a shitload of brain cells, man."

Collins snatched up the tiny piece of paper with a smirk. "Oh, I'm sorry, I was under the impression that you had none of those left."

Roger glared. "I'll get you for that."

"No, it is I that will get you, Collins!" And then Mark was with them again. "I WILL STICK AN AX IN YOUR HEAD!"

Collins looked around. "I see no ax, Mark. What ax?"

"What ax? What ax, you ax?" Roger said from the floor. Collins swung the umbrella at him.

"Ow…"

"I will…." Mark stopped, flustered. "Oh yeah? Well, I'll… I'll… I'LL FILM YOU!"

He held up his camera as if it were a terrible weapon.

"Oh no… don't take a wrong step or Mark'll wind up his Rolex and exact his revenge!" Collins said, laughing.

Mark, thoroughly upset, dove for Collins. "Gimme it!"

"NO!" Collins roared, and he moved out of the way, sending Mark falling through open space. He crashed onto the floor, moaning.

"Haha, that's what you get, you pumpkin-headed albino…"

_BANG!_

Roger jumped in front of the fallen Mark, clanging two kitchen pans together. "Behold, I am Roger, conqueror of Shitcake Island. Bask in my holy glory… bask in it and FEAARRRRR MEEEEE!"

Collins laughed. "Dude, you need some professional help!"

"Ah, but it is you that will be needing the help when I am finished here!" Roger said, making his voice go unnaturally low.

"Roger… seriously man, stop it. Your lack of brain cells is frightening."

"DO NOT SPEAK OR YOU SHALL BE SMITED!"

"Roger…"

"SMITING!" And then, Roger clapped the pans together, doing an odd ninja-esque kick. He then attempted to bring Collins to the floor.

The bigger man laughed deeply. "You entertain me."

"Shut up!"

"It's my vacation, Roger. I won it fair and square."

"Yeah? Well…. your feet stink!"

"And you're threatening me with random kitchen tools." Collins pointed out.

"Is that a problem?"

"Roger Davis, step aside before you force me to do something I'd really rather not do."

"Really?"

"No, I think it would be fucking hilarious."

Roger stood his ground, so Collins opened his jacket, pulling a small cylinder from his pocket. "A choice has been made. Say goodnight, young man!"

And he unsheathed a brilliantly… _plastic _toy lightsaber.

Roger stared, dumbfounded. "Collins, I don't know what your problem is, but I'm sure it's long and hard to pronounce."

Collins raised the blade to Roger's throat. "Silence or Eradication. Choose."

"Collins…"

"Alright… eradication it is."

He swung and Roger ducked, grabbing the tall man's legs and pulling him over.

_Argh! _Collins stumbled and fell atop Mark.

"HAHAHA! I WIN!"

"Uh… Dumbass Davis? I still have the paper."

"Damn." Roger cursed, as Collins laughed, climbing off of the heavily-bruised filmmaker beneath him. "I hate you."

Collins smiled toothily. "It's because I'm black, isn't it?"

"Hell no. I have no prejudices. I believe in equal hatred for all."

Collins held the paper high above his head as he sensed Roger's leap.

"Nyahnyahnyah nyah!" He teased.

But then… the smell of smoke wafted to their nostrils, and a loud _BAM! _erupted throughout the loft.

"What the…?" Roger began.

Collins slumped his shoulders mournfully as Angel ran toward the source of the commotion, the kitchen. "There goes my turkey club."

"Guys, could you quit acting like complete and utter asses long enough to help my put out this fire?" Angel called sweetly.

"FIRE?????????!!!" Mark was suddenly fully standing, frantic.

"Relax… it's just the hot plate." Collins said. "I was making my turkey sandwich and…"

"Whoawhoawhoa…. wait a minute. And WHY were you trying to cook a sandwich on our hot plate?"

"Uh… it sounded fun?"

"COLLINS!" Mark yelled. "You BLEW UP the fucking hot plate!"

"Sorry!" Collins shielded his face with his hands in shame.

"My mother got that for me last year!" Mark said sadly, as Angel ran by, toting the charred remains of the hot plate. She scurried into the bathroom and threw it into the bathtub, pouring water over it.

"Uh… new flash: NO ONE CARES!"

"Real mature, Roger. What is this, second grade?"

Collins spoke up, "EVERYONE JUST PLEASE! Stop. We need to figure out what we're going to do, we have no hot plate, no food… and Mimi'll be here any second with her Mother and Father."

"Is there a problem, guys?" A sweet, feminine voice called. There in the doorway to the loft, stood Mimi Marquez, closely followed by a man and woman, who looked sorely confused.

"MIMI! SHIT!" The three men yelled, as Angel ran out of the bathroom to hug her best friend.

"Mimi, chica… you won't believe what happened…"

Mimi broke free of Angel's arms and approached Roger. "Roger, baby, what the hell did you do to your back?"

Angel looked guilty as Mimi eyed the reddish wounds showing through Roger's shirt.

Roger twiddled his thumbs, looking nervous. "Um… hey Meems… say, you look _hot_! Are you a parking ticket? Because you've got _FINE_ written all over you."

"Oh God… stop it now." Mimi said quickly, nauseated. "Why are you using stupid pick-up lines on me?"

"It's a nervous habit… I can't seem to kick it."

"And what the hell is going on in this LOFT?!!" Mimi yelled. "I leave for a couple hours to get my parents, and everything goes out the window."

"Nah, Meems, only the hot plate went out the window." Angel remarked, rubbing her palms together and leaving the windowsill.

"YOU THREW THE HOT PLATE OUT THE WINDOW?"

Angel shrunk back. "It seemed like the right idea at the time."

"Owww…. my head….!" They heard from below.

Mimi threw her hands to her sides. "Forget it, I should have known…"

Mimi's parents, who Roger knew spoke little English, continued to stare, bewildered at the scene.

Mimi brushed Roger's shirt gently and sighed. "Why were you guys at each other throats?"

"Mimi, how long were you standing there?" Mark said, pushing his glasses back up onto his nose.

"Long enough."

"Well you see, Collins won this vacation to Shitcake Island…" Roger started.

"Collins??!!" Mimi said excitedly, "You won a vacation! To… _Shitcake_ Island?"

She scrunched up her nose.

"Chitake Island Summer Resort." Collins said proudly.

"WOW!" Mimi exclaimed. "That's so exciting! You're so lucky, Collins, congratulations!" Then she narrowed her eyes. "Oh God, lemme guess you all were fighting over it?"

All three looked at their feet.

"I cannot believe this." Mimi sighed again. She stuck out her hand. "Collins, show me the paper."

Collins lowered the paper from out of Roger's reach, but held it to his heart defensively. "No."

"I just want to SEE it." Mimi insisted.

"No."

"COLLINS! GIVE ME THE PAPER!"

Scared now, he let her snatch it.

She quickly scanned over the paper, shaking her head. "Oh my God… you guys… what the hell? You are all DUMBASSES!"

"What?" Roger said, looking hurt.

"It says: _Congratulations! You are a winner! You and up to ten friends are going to Chitake Island Summer Resort in Florida. Call this number to claim your prize."_

Silence. A cricket chirped.

"CURSE YOU, CRICKET! I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN AND GUT YOU LIKE A FISH!" Collins screamed.

Meanwhile, Roger and Mark stared at the floor, abashed. "Oh."

Mimi hugged them. "But guys, don't you see what this means?"

Roger, now with a seriously damaged self esteem level, sighed. "That we're stupid?"

"Well… yeah… but guys! We're going on vacation!"

"Wheee!" Mark squealed and he did a little jig. Everyone stared at him. "Sorry."

"_Mimi, hija, qué pasa?" _Mimi's mother stepped in, and her father followed suit.

"Oh, _Mamá!" _Mimi exclaimed. "It's so exciting! _Mis amigos y yo vamos a viajar para vacaciones!"_

"_Qué fantastico!" _The woman, who looked amazingly similar to Mimi, gushed. Her father smiled at her.

_"Sí, qué magnifico!" _Mimi smiled. "It's been way too long since I've had a nice relaxing break."

Collins and Mark shuffled away, following Angel into the kitchen.

"New York _siempre está aburrido."_

_"Aburrido?"_

_"Sí. Muy aburrido."_

Roger, who had been standing silently, finally spoke up. "Burritos? I love burritos!" He exclaimed.

Mimi's parents chuckled softly as Mimi rolled her eyes. _"Recuerdes a mi novio, Roger?"_

"Of course, _mi hija_, of course we remember Roger." Her father smiled. "You spoke of him so much whenever you called." His accent was so thick, Roger could hardly understand him.

Mimi's mother was still laughing. _"Un chico muy guapo."_

"What's so funny, Mimi?" Roger, not liking the idea of another blow to his self-confidence.

Mimi took his hand in hers and squeezed. "Oh, baby… _aburrido_ is the Spanish word for boring… I was just telling _Mamá _and _Papá _that I'm getting bored of the same old New York City."

"Oh…" Roger said distantly, as he tried to remember what little Spanish he'd picked up from Mimi. _"Estoy embarazada ahora." _

Pride filled him as he realized that he'd pronounced every word correctly.

Which is why he was quite perturbed when they all began to laugh, this time harder.

"Damn it, what now?" Roger mumbled.

"How peculiar." Mimi's mother said through her laughter.

"Mimi…" Roger whined to his laughing girlfriend.

Mimi, eyes shining, kissed Roger's cheek. "Oh baby… you just said… you didn't say you were embarrassed, Roger."

"Then what the hell did I say?" Honest confusion whirled through Roger.

"Baby, _embarazada _means pregnant."

Blushing madly, Roger quickly said, "Wow…uh… okay then… _no embarazada!"_

Mimi smiled and her parents accepted this response.

Then Mark stepped into the room. "Uh, hey guys, I hate to interrupt, but Collins just called the number on the paper… and we're getting picked up tomorrow. They're renting us a HUGE car!"

"Hey guys." A voice said. Beside Roger stood Benny.

"When did you get here?" Roger sounded angry.

"Just a few minutes ago. Alison kicked me out."

"Big surprise." Mimi said with a grin.

Roger, however was not amused. "Who let you in here?"

"The door was open."

"Damn it."

"Well, guys… I'd better get packing…" Benny changed the subject.

"Uh… hello? What gave you the impression that we wanna see your ugly mug on Shitcake Island?!!!!!" Roger yelled.

"I'm going with you guys! It's going to be great, huh?"

"Oh no you're not!"

"Yes, I am."

"Angel said I could!"

"ANGEL!" Roger screamed.

Angel entered, smiling. "What? It seemed like the nice thing to do."

Groaning, Roger slapped his forehead.

**--------**

**So… off to "Shitcake" Island Summer Resort.**

**Don't you just love the Bohos? ;)**

**I hope to write more very soon…**

P.S. --Hopefully any Spanish I used here didn't throw you off. I made it so you could basically tell what they were saying... at least I think I did. (shrugs)

**Review please... no flames. **


	2. If You Don't Like Roger's Driving

Author's Notes:

_HELLO!_

Just thought I'd say that I am very pleased with the responses I got after the first chapterThank you so much for the lovely reviews, everyone!

Now, I've got a lot planned for this one, and hopefully I'll be able to update frequently.

What's Good: Sugar cookies, hugs and laughter.

What's Bad: Having an anti-RENT music teacher.

Okay, time to be happy again… :)

-----------

**Chapter 2**

"Where we are we going again, Roger?" Maureen said, almost boredly, from where she sat beside Joanne on the couch in the loft. The bohemians had all gathered at the loft after the departure of Mimi's stupefied parents, and it was late evening.

"Shitcake Island… a land of joy and wonder… and wonderness." Roger murmured dreamily, licking a batter-covered spoon.

"Um… Roger, what are you doing?" Joanne inquired, as Maureen snuggled up to her, sighing contentedly.

"What the fuck does it look like I'm doing?" Roger said pointedly, holding the spoon as if it were a treasured object. "And what business of yours is it in the first place?"

Joanne looked astonished, staring at Roger silently, but Maureen piped up softly, "Roger, don't snap at her, she hasn't known you as long as we have, so she doesn't understand your…" She paused. "… habits."

"I wonder what Shitcake would taste like?" Roger asked, ignoring the rebuke.

"Just a wild guess, but I'm thinking it would taste kinda like shit." Collins said as he entered, looking excited, followed by Angel, whose arms were laden with grocery bags.

"We got everything we could possibly need for the ride down to Florida!" Angel said cheerily, dumping the bags onto the unoccupied end of the couch.

"Damn it, I hate long car rides." Maureen complained. "Pookie…"

"Maureen, I'm sure I'll be able to keep you entertained." Joanne whispered, just loud enough for Roger to hear.

Roger paused and held the spoon in mid-air. "Oh please, no sexual innuendo while I'm licking a batter-covered spoon… the implications are awful."

Mimi, who had been silently observing her boyfriend's queer activity, asked suddenly, "Roger, why ARE you fondling a spoon coated in batter, anyway?"

Exasperated, Roger threw his hands into the air and let out a long frustrated cry. Then, he withdrew the spoon from his tongue and held it to his chest, smearing batter onto his leather jacket. "I have a condition, DON'T JUDGE ME."

Mimi, confused, just shook her head as Collins began to unpack the items he and Angel had bought, and Roger began to coo softly at his spoon.

"Let's see… for Maureen, we got…" Collins said, sifting through the bag, "Gummy worms… playing cards… and a jar of peanut butter."

Suddenly, Maureen brightened. "All I need! This car ride's gonna be hot!"

"Uh-oh…" Mark moaned from where he was sitting on the floor, knowing exactly what Maureen planned to do.

"Hey, remember, I'm going to be driving," Roger interjected. "So don't get any wise ideas, Maureen. Especially concerning that peanut butter…" He paused. "And no strip poker in the backseat!"

"What a fucking killjoy." Maureen said under her breath, making Joanne giggle.

Mimi, however, wore a bewildered expression. "I don't get it… _peanut butter_? Roger, why are you worried about Maureen and a jar of peanut butter?"

"Let's just say it had proven to be a dangerous combination in the past, and leave it at that." Mark replied for his friend, who had returned his attention to the spoon.

"Anyway…" Collins interrupted, looking angry that the other bohos weren't focused on his sweet trip to Chitake Island Resort. "And for Joanne… we got…" He withdrew several items and tossed them at Joanne. "Swedish fish…"

"What the fuck?" Roger questioned suddenly. "Where'd you find Swedish fish?"

"In Sweden, of course." Mark said, with a roll of his eyes.

"AHEM!" Collins said, "Can I continue? Thanks. Okay… and also… a Magic 8 ball and this book."

Joanne gratefully scooped up the paperback, titled, _For Under-Recognized Fanfic Characters._

Just then, Benny arrived and sat down on the other side of Mimi.

Roger growled.

"Relax, Rog, he'll behave. If he touches me, I'll sock him myself." Mimi said, touching Roger's arm.

"Oh, it's not you I'm worried about," Roger answered, anxiously eyeing his spoon.

Mimi scoffed quietly and crossed her arms in front of her chest, as Benny said calmly, "Roger, you know, I really have no desire to touch that batter and saliva coated mess you've got there."

"Like hell you don't." Roger's voice was low and gravelly. "I know you want it, Coffin, you're fucking jealous."

Benny rolled his eyes. "_Yes, _Roger. I'm _jealous. _The temptation is overwhelming me."

"Roger, you are basically molesting a spoon." Mark pointed out.

"Shut the fuck up!" Collins yelled. "You all are worse than that goddamn cricket!"

"Sorry." Everyone except Roger, whose mouth was now occupied, said hurriedly.

"THANK YOU!" Collins said, looking livid. "Alright… for Mark… chocolate-covered raisins, itchy butt cream…"

Mark, cheeks pink, hurriedly accepted all of his items. "That's quite enough, Collins."

"He's only embarrassed about the ass rash cream." Maureen concluded.

"NUH-UH!" Mark replied indignantly.

"Uh-uh… yup… DENIAL." Maureen said, steadfast, while everyone nodded.

"Moving onward," Collins continued. "We got… for Mimi... chocolate bars, fun size!" He added, and tossed them to her. "And… _Catscratch Illustrated."_

"Damn, can I borrow that when you're done?" Benny asked, trying to do sad puppy-dog eyes and failing miserably.

"Dude, you fucking sicko!" Roger exclaimed, with a glare.

"Now, children, get along." Angel said soothingly, wrapping an arm around Benny. Then, she looked the yuppie scum in the eye and said, "Honey, don't take this the wrong way, but maybe you should stop having such nasty thoughts please? It would be better for everyone." Her voice was so sweet and loving that Benny burst into tears.

"I can't help it!" Benny protested as he sobbed. "I'm really a good person at heart!"

"Shhhh… oh, darling, it's not your fault… I know… shhhh…"

"Oh, puh-lease." Roger mumbled. "Good person, my ass!" Then he looked thoughtful and added, "My sweet, perfectly sculpted, envy and awe inspiring ass."

"Always gotta fly your own kite, don't you, Roger?" Mark sighed.

"Dude, we were talking about my ass, not kites, pay attention to the story!"

"'Kay, can we like, not talk about Roger's ass now?" Joanne inquired. Roger and Mimi looked disappointed.

"He's right, you know." Mimi whispered to Angel. "It is a pretty nice ass."

Joanne narrowed her eyes. "PLEASE?"

Roger stood up, balancing the spoon in his mouth. He began to wiggle his hips. "Whatsa matter, Joanne? JEALOUS?"

"I most certainly am not." Joanne said, looking angry.

"Right. My ass has a beauty that is beyond overpowering, and you don't even wish a TINY BIT that yours was similar?"

"Hey, Joanne has a fine ass." Maureen said, kissing Joanne's reddened cheek.

"Roger, sit down!" Mimi insisted, looking embarrassed.

Roger saluted her. "As you wish, milady. But I trust you'll all remember this lesson? There may be a pop quiz later."

Collins stood, hands on his hips. "Are we quite finished here?"

Roger fell back onto the couch, whispering to Mark. "I regret that I have but one butt to give for my Mimi."

"Uh… Roger?" Mark said, rather loudly. "You'd look really queer with multiple butts."

"AHEMAHEMCOUGH CAN WE PLEASE FOCUS COUGH?!!" Collins screamed.

Silence.

"Don't you utter a fucking noise, you cricket." Collins warned. "Anywho… also, for Benny, we got…." He turned to Angel and whispered, "Angel, did we get Benny anything?"

Angel looked horrified.

"Uh… nothing." Collins said lamely, and Benny looked ready to cry again.

"And for Roger… here you go, buddy!" Collins said triumphantly, reaching the bottom of the bag and handing Angel whatever items they'd bought for themselves.

Roger caught the object deftly and whooped. "YES! Thanks, man."

Mimi leaned over and eyed the parcel.

It read: _Pascal's Plaid Toilet Paper: The Trendiest DAMN Toiletry on the Planet._

"Roger," Mimi began slowly. "When two people love each other, they learn to accept one another's certain eccentric ways. But this… I have to ask… WHAT THE HELL? WHY?"

"Mimi…" Roger began, holding his spoon in one hand and the plaidified toilet paper in the other, his voice sounding as if he were about to explain something to a three year-old. "Why the hell not? I mean, it's PLAID! And… have you ever noticed that the toilet paper in those rest stop bathrooms feels like fucking sandpaper???!!!"

Mimi, baffled, shook her head. "You know, whatever… just WHATEVER."

Roger, looking satisfied, tucked his new possession under his arm and went back to steadily removing the remains of the batter from the spoon.

"Jesus, Davis, you really are fucked up in the head." Benny commented.

"SHUT THE HELL UP!" Roger shouted, sending the spoon straight down his windpipe. "GACK! COUGH! CHOKECHOKEGAGWHEEZECHOKE!"

Then, it flew from its place, dislodged in Roger's throat and whizzed through the air.

It hurtled across the floor with a metallic clang, leaving a long streak of batter smeared across the floorboards behind it.

Silence hung in the air, and Collins looked around with a murderous look in his eyes, listening for a cricket.

Roger stared at the spoon, his eyes filling with tears.

"Roger…" Mimi began, easing off the cough to kneel beside him.

"Damn…" Collins interrupted, ruining the hopes of lifting Roger's now despaired mood. "It looks like the Pillsbury Dough Boy butt-scooted on your floor!"

Several people dared to chuckle, but Mimi's eyes remained glued to Roger's pained face.

Then.

"Shit…. BENNY!"

Benny curled up into a ball, submissive.

"YOU SUCK!" Roger wailed, pointing at the spoon. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY? WELL, I SURE DON'T, COFFIN! MAY TINY PARASITES CHOMP AWAY AT YOUR TRAITOROUS FLESH WHILE YOU SLEEP!"

"Wow, that's deep, Rog." Collins remarked truthfully, wiping a tear from his eye.

"SHUT UP! I HAVE BEEN EMOTIONALLY DAMAGED BY THIS INCIDENT AND IT IS NO LAUGHING MATTER!"

"Then why do I feel like laughing my ass off?" Maureen inquired.

Roger inhaled deeply through his nose, blinking back tears, and turned on his heel, headed for his room.

He slammed the door in a huff.

There was another lapse of silence, in which Collins peered under the couch, enraged, when the cricket boldly chirped.

"Maybe we should all get some sleep." Angel suggested after Collins resurfaced, defeated.

"Yeah, good idea." Mimi replied, yawning. "Mark, should we clean that up?" She indicated the smear on the floor.

"I can't. It's against my religion." Mark said, shaking his head.

"Don't be ridiculous. Being Jewish does not make you exempt from cleaning." Mimi said, confused.

"No… I can't clean… it's against my religion… and Roger's… it's a long story."

Mimi sighed. "'Kay then. Not my problem." She walked purposefully toward the door to the bedroom she and Roger now shared. "Open up, baby." She knocked several times.

"Leave me alone." Came a piteous voice.

"Rogerbear," Mimi purred, doing her best to sound alluring. "Get your perfectly sculpted ass to the door and let your girlfriend in!"

The door creaked open, and Roger stood there, half-smiling. "You know, I'm starting to think my ass was carved by angels."

"EW!" Angel shrieked from the living room area. "I don't even know how to fucking SCULPT!"

"Goodnight, Angel!" Mimi called with a giggle.

Instantly, Angel was back in sugar-sweet mode. "Aw, goodnight, chica! Sweet dreams, Roger!"

------------------

The next morning, the loft was a flurry of activity.

Roger had uncharacteristically awakened at Mimi's first request and the two of them had sat down at the table together, waiting several minutes until the others emerged from their respective bedrooms.

After this, the Bohos had all munched on what was left of the stale Captain Crunch that had won them the vacation.

Then, everyone began to pack up the car, which arrived mid-meal. A snazzy suited man had dropped it off.

"Collins… I thought you said I'd be driving a cool car." Roger pouted, eyeing the dirty-looking RV.

"Well, beggars can't be choosers." Collins said wisely, "Besides, the inside is nice enough."

"Hmpph."

Mimi and Angel however, were ecstatic. "Oh it's going to be so much fun!" Angel squealed to her lover.

"Yes, it will, baby." Collins agreed, climbing onboard.

"I call the seat beside POOKIE!" Maureen exclaimed, clambering into the RV urgently.

"Damn, Maureen… like anyone would ever dare take that seat in the first place."

Mimi hugged Roger from behind. "Hey babe, say hello to your co-captain of this voyage."

"Hello." Roger murmured sarcastically. Mimi dropped her arms.

"What's wrong?"

"I miss my spoon."

"Roger…"

"Just kidding." He half-lied. "I guess I'm just jumpy. Anxious to get out on the road."

"You didn't forget your guitar, did you?"

"It's in there."

"Good boy." Mimi said, satisfied.

"All aboard the Shitcake Island Express!" Roger called out.

"Chi-_TAKE!_ Chitake, ROGER!"

"WhatFUCKINGever."

"This is going to be a long ride…" Mimi murmured from the passenger seat beside Roger, as her boyfriend started the ignition.

Sometime later, the Bohemians were struggling to get their large RV out of Manhattan.

Roger, in the front seat, beeped his horn. "What the fuck? Yeah, asshole, get out of my way!"

Mimi was reading _Catstratch Illustrated_, not even looking at the road.

In the back, Collins and Angel had started some sort of drinking game.

Maureen sighed into Joanne's hair. "Are we there yet?"

"Honeybear, we're still in New York."

"Are you serious?"

"I afraid so."

"Dammit." Maureen muttered. "How far away is Florida?"

"Quite awhile away, Maureen." Mark muttered, looking annoyed already.

"OOOH!" Maureen brightened. "Hey guys, wanna hear my Over the Moon protest?"

"Not really." Collins muttered drunkenly. "We've heard it only a kaballion bajillion times."

"Only that many?" Maureen yelled, alarmed. "Oh, my poor deprived friends!"

Angel leaned onto Collins' shoulder, deep in thought. "Honey, no offense, but I might as well have heard Elsie's life story by now."

"Elsie is a very interesting cow." Maureen protested. "There's much to say about her."

"Did you guys know that cows have multiple stomachs?" Collins inquired, trying to change the subject.

"OOOH!" Roger shrieked from the driver's seat. "One time, I found a bicycle tire in a cow!"

"Roger…" Angel muttered, "Forgive me for this, but: WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU DOING IN A COW?"

"Exploring." Roger said simply, with a shrug.

"Oh my God." Was Benny's input.

Several yells sounded outside of the RV, and Roger sat up straighter in his seat, looking quite upset. "Yeah, well it's not my fault that you're in my way, idiots!"

"Roger…?" Mimi asked from behind her magazine.

"It's nothing, Meems." He said, calmly.

"Hey guys!" Collins suddenly yelled, looking excited. "I have a question! Which came first… the chicken or the egg?"

"What the fuck?" Maureen questioned. "I don't get it."

Joanne smiled at the somewhat educated new conversation and popped a Swedish fish into her mouth. "Well, I think the chicken came first, Collins, because God would look really quite ridiculous sitting on an egg."

"Um… well, God would look pretty silly sitting on a chicken too, I think." Mark said, as her scribbled in his notebook.

"Oh, Mark, honey…" Angel giggled. "She meant God created the chicken that laid the egg."

"Oh." Mark said after a moment.

Collins guffawed loudly and took a sip of his beer.

"Hey, Collins, help a brother out and pass me one!" Roger called.

"Roger…" Angel scolded. "You shouldn't drink while driving!"

Roger was silent for a moment, then spoke up, voice full of sorrow. "Oh my God, Angel! You are SO RIGHT! I might spill it!"

Angel groaned.

Then there was brief silence throughout the RV.

A cricket chirped.

"Damn, that fucking cricket followed us!" Collins yelled angrily.

"Are we at least almost to the highway?" Mimi asked Roger, still flipping through her magazine.

"Yeah… yeahh…" Roger started, then yelling, "You fucking ASSHOLE! Yeah, you! Oh, don't you dare give me that look! It's your own damn fault!"

"Roger…" Mimi began again. "Is there a problem?"

"I hate people." Roger muttered dejectedly.

"Hey, Mo!" Collins called out in the back. "Pass me that box of Nerds, will you?"

Maureen threw the box at him and commenced making out with Joanne.

"Yummyummyummy." Collins rubbed his hands together and tore the box open, scarfing down the candy.

"SCARF?" Mark yelled, frantic, grasping his scarf protectively.

"No, Mark, sweetie, Collins isn't hurting Scarfy." The authoress explained.

Mark looked relieved as the author wondered why Mark was wearing the scarf in the summertime when the Bohos were going on vacation.

Several more protesting shouts directed at the RV sounded through the air, and Roger, frustrated, rolled down his window.

"If you don't my driving, stay off the fucking SIDEWALK!" He yelled.

Mimi dropped her magazine, looking terrified.

Collins looked up from his Nerds. "Uh… Roger? Maybe I should drive."

"No, man. Can't you see I can handle this?" Roger yelled back to his friend.

"Hey, fuckers!" Roger yelled to the other cars. "You all are going the wrong way!"

"Roger, sweetheart…" Angel started softly. "They're driving _on the road_."

"I know that." Roger rolled his eyes, and then changed the subject. "Hey! We're almost to the freeway!"

Then, a series of grotesque crunching noises began to rumble from under the tires and the RV jolted this way and that, Collins' Nerds flying all over his lap.

"Damn." Collins said tearfully.

"Wow, it's getting a little bumpy here!" Roger exclaimed.

Mimi, horrified, looked out at the concrete beneath her window. "Oh my God…"

"My leg… ohhh…. My LEG!" She heard.

Before Mimi could say anything else, there was a loud _THUMP_ and something big and limp hit the windshield.

Mimi looked up, staring straight into the eyes of another.

"Holy shit." She whispered under her breath. _There's a person on our WINDSHIELD! _She thought. Panicking, she turned to her boyfriend, who was grimacing.

"Eeww!" Roger squealed. And he turned on the windshield wipers. "That's just… trifling."

When the body had been wiped away, Mimi was about to yell at her boyfriend, but the lamppost that was dead ahead caught her attention.

"ROGER!" She yelled, and Roger tried to swerve, but the front end of the RV smashed into the metal pole.

Silence.

The cricket let out a terrified chirp.

Collins picked it up and held it to his cheek. "Aw… it's okay, little fellow. Now SHUT. THE. HELL. UP."

Mark, the scrawniest of the passengers in the back, had flown forward upon impact and hit the back of Mimi's seat, which propelled him backward into Collins abruptly, knocking more Nerds everywhere.

"AHH!" Mark yelled, as a tiny purple Nerd went into his eye. "ROGER! Fuck, this is all your fault! When I get out of the ICU, I'm going to KILL YOU!"

Angel calmly reached over and plucked the Nerd out of Mark's eyelid. "Honestly, Mark."

Mark harrumphed.

Collins meanwhile was pecking at his lap, hurriedly eating the fallen Nerds. He discovered that one had fallen onto the seat beside him, which was unoccupied.

He reached down and sniffed the Nerd, then popped it into his mouth. "Yum."

"Uh… Collins?" Maureen asked him. "You do know that someone shit in that seat once, right?"

Collins' eyes widened, but he shrugged and popped another Nerd on the seat into his mouth.

"Collins ATE SHITNERDS!" Joanne squealed. "GROSS!"

"Someone shit in that seat once?" Mimi asked, taking a time out from glaring at Roger, who was trying to restart the RV.

"Yeah… Mark did. We took this RV to the Smokey Mountains once. Used the same RV and I recognized the license plate number."

"WHAT THE HELL?" Mimi questioned, as Mark blushed.

"I was DEHYRADATED, okay?" He said indignantly.

"That's just gross."

Roger hit the dashboard in frustration. "Come on, baby… you can do it…" He urged the RV.

"Roger…" Mimi began to tell her boyfriend that they were going to need to get out and find help, but she was interrupted by a terrible noise that sounded from the RV, echoing around for nearly a minute afterward.

"Damn." Collins said, astonished.

_Chirp. _The cricket agreed.

"Shut up, cricket…" Collins said between his teeth.

"What was that?" Angel questioned, looking worried.

"It sounded like a weasel being sucked into our engine!" Roger concluded.

"RONALD WEASLEY!" Mark yelled, receiving strange looks. "I mean, cough."

"What the hell, Roger?" Collins chimed in. "Weasels down just randomly wander into the streets of New York and get sucked into engines!"

"And by the way, Collins, I don't kiss Shitnerds mouths." Angel told him.

"We brought Listerine." Collins replied.

"Oh… that…" Benny spoke up for the first time in awhile. "I thought that was an energy drink."

"What the fuck?" Roger said. "What's wrong with you?"

Mimi held up her hands. "EVERYONE SHUSH! We have to get out and find some help, alright?"

After some mumbling, everyone clambered out of the RV.

Maureen looked up at the lamppost they hit and pointed. "Look!"

There, was a sign that read: NOW LEAVING NEW YORK CITY.

"Oh my God." Mimi said, exasperated. "We didn't even get out of MANHATTAN yet, and look at this!" She motioned to the smoking front end of the RV.

"It's not my fault!" Roger protested. "Blame that shitface that decided to block my VIEW!"

**----------**

**:D**

**Shitnerds… true vacation story.**

**So this one was shorter than the last, but that's just how it worked out. ;)**

**WHAT WILL HAPPEN NEXT? DUNDUNDUN!**

**Reviews????!!! Pwease? Pwetty pwease?**


	3. Funtime and Troubles with the Bohos!

**Hello! Yes, it's been a little awhile, as I have expanded my RENT fanfic career a bit now. But no, I haven't abandoned this little ficcy.**

**It's just too much fun! Yeee!**

**So, anyway, thanks so much for the kind reviews and encouragement. Yay, it inspired me.**

------

**Chapter 3**

Mimi, exasperated, leaned against the slightly smashed RV. "We're pathetic."

"And poetic." Mark added, fiddling with his camera. No one understood this, of course, so Mark got strange looks, as always.

Everyone but Roger had their bodies leaned precariously against the RV on the outskirts of New York City.

"Baby, we need to get some help." Mimi suggested to her boyfriend, who was rummaging around with various mechanical mechanistic mechanisms under the hood.

"No, can't you see I can handle this?" Roger insisted, then promptly screamed in frustration. "GAH! HOT DAMN! Piece of shit!"

"Hot damn?" Collins questioned.

_Slap. _Roger then pulled a large piece of plywood from God-knows-where and began to smack the RV. "C'mon, you fucker. START!"

"Ah, yes. Roger _can _handle it." Maureen rolled her eyes.

_Slap_. Roger continued to beat the RV mercilessly. _Slap. Slappity slap slap. Slappy mc slappers. Slappy mc slapperstein. Slap mania. Slap fest! Slappy the clown. SLAPFUCKINGSLAP._

"Damn, if I didn't know any better, I'd say the authoress of this fanfic was _slap-happy._" Collins said slowly, crunching on the last remnants of the infamous ShitNerds. "Haha, get it, Ang? SLAP HAPPY?!!!"

"Not that you all aren't so damn funny…" Mimi mumbled, examining her nails. "I'd like to get going ASAP, because Florida's awhile away, and it'd be nice to get as far as possible as quickly as possible."

"You can't have so many Possibles when Roger's your driver." Maureen told Mimi. "Trust me; I have known the kids since he failed his driving test at age sixteen for the first time."

"So when did he finally get his license?" Mimi inquired, eyeing Roger as he unleashed his assault upon the unyielding vehicle.

Silence.

The readers waited for the inevitable cricket joke to come.

Wait for it…

Wait for it…

NOW! And _the cricket chirped._

"DAMN YOU!" Collins roared, stumbling into the RV that was quaking under Roger's barrage. "I WILL FIND YOU AND RIP YOUR EYES OUT!"

Mimi waited for someone to answer her. "Guys... hello? When did Roger get his license?"

Angel looked clueless, and Maureen's mouth was hanging open. "Uh…"

"CHAMPAGNE???!!!" Collins offered from inside the RV.

"Don't mind if I doooo…" Benny sang cheerfully. "Ahaha, remember that, guys? Oh man, good times! That was so great, wasn't it? Me… trying to evict you and locking you out of the loft, you destroying the door…?"

"And you being a complete ass? Yeah, I remember." Maureen said crisply.

"She burned you there, Ben." Joanne said, high-fiving (aka. _tonguing) _her girlfriend.

Benny's eyes filled with tears. "Sniffle."

Roger, still smacking the RV, cursed loudly, breaking the silence. Collins was relived that he did instead of the fucking cricket.

"RAR!" Roger yelled, pounding the RV. "I AM ROGER, HEAR ME ROAR!"

"Mimi, your boyfriend's scary." Angel pointed out.

Mimi shrugged. "I'm finding this whole thing quite sexxi, actually."

Roger sent a seductive smile Mimi's way and began hitting the RV twice as hard. "HOT DAMN! Mimi thinks this is SEXXI! SEXXI! WITH AN 'I'!"

"I don't get it." Angel shook her head and yanked Collins out of the RV mid-cricket search. "Kiss me, mama!."

"It ain't snowin'." Collins said; confuzzled. "And I ain't your mama."

"Oh, so when anyone else says something that makes absolutely no sense no one cares, and when ANGEL says something wacky, it's a huge deal." Angel said, pouting.

Collins kissed Angel's nose. "It's alright, baby. Nothing else we're saying in this story makes any fucking sense, anyway."

"Yay for being crackheads!" Maureen yelled, raising a large glass out of nowhere.

Joanne whoop-whooped. Which is weird to imagine, but hell, she fucking whoop-whooped so LIKE IT.

"ARGH! LISTEN TO ME!" Roger screamed at the RV. "HEED MY WORDS! OBEY ME, BETCH!"

"Marky's got a cow on his head, Marky's got a cow on his head!" Mark sang happily, jamming to his iPod.

"What the hell is an iPod?" Collins questioned. "And why the hell is Mark singing the Laurie Berkner Band? AND WHY THE HELL DON'T I GET AN IPOD?"

"Cuz yer not spessshhhalll." Mark teased.

"MARK COHEN, GET ELSIE OFF OF YOUR HEAD THIS INSTANT!" Maureen yelped, livid.

And no, Joanne didn't whoop-whoop. Thank the Lord.

"YESSSSSSS!" Roger said triumphantly, and the bohemians heard a _vroom-whirr_ as the RV started up.

"See, Roger, all the RV wanted was for you to BANG it." Collins said, chuckling.

"Shut up, man." Roger said, looking tired. "Everyone climb back in."

"Ahaha, Mimi's turned on by her boyfriend banging an RV!" Angel yelled, quite amused by this.

Seatbelts buckled, and raring to go, Roger pulled them off the sidewalk and entered the highway.

The Boho Buddies had clambered into their respective seats gratefully, forgetting all about the question of Roger having a license.

"A license? Oh, _that." _Roger said, twiddling his fingers on the steering wheel.

The authoress clapped a hand over her mouth. Erm, tied her blasphemous typing fingers up and typed the remainder of the chapter with her toes.

"So, Roger… when did you earn your license?" Mimi asked curiously, throwing _Catscratch Illustrated _at Benny.

"Epéeseeeee!" Benny said. We can only assume that this exclamation signified glee.

_SICKO. _The Bohos, authoress, and readers thought resentfully.

"Roger… I'm waiting." Mimi asked impatiently, as Roger looked uncomfortable.

Roger hesitated. "Um… well… you see… it's like this… I… uh…"

"Judging by the look on his face, he's either realllllly constipated, or he never got a license ever ever ever." Mark deduced. "Trust me, I know Roger faces."

Roger turned around and glared at Mark.

"And now he's MAD. REALLLLY MAD."

"Damn STR-EIGHT!" Roger said, for some reason putting the number EIGHT into the word. Cue shrug here.

"Uh, Roger… _ROAD." _Mimi spun him around.

"You spin me round round baby round round, like a record baby…" Angel sang happily.

Mimi looked Roger over. "Okay, seriously, Roger. You don't have a driver's license?"

"Maybe." Roger said, with shifty eyes.

Mimi looked more than a little concerned.

Angel spoke up. "So, you never got one as a teen? Roger, what the hell? Every teen wants to drive the second they turn sixteen! What were you doing that took your attention away from that?"

"Ahahaha… Roger was one fucked up teenager." Collins said, laughing.

Roger shrunk into his seat, looking scared. Mark said one word.

"Emmmoooooo."

Mimi patted Roger's shoulder. "I'm going to ignore the fact that you don't have a driver's license and pat your shoulder now. Alright? Alright."

"He drove all the way to Santa Fe and back." Maureen pointed out. "I trust him."

Joanne almost whoop-whooped.

"Still, Davis was a wacko teenager." Collins thought to repeat.

"Yeah, basically." Mark agreed.

"Oh, shut up, Mark!" Roger yelled. "Talk about messed up adolescence! You remember the food fight at our senior picnic? YOU CRIED, Mark. YOU FUCKING CRIED."

"Hey, no fair! I got BBQ sauce in my eye!" Mark protested.

"With glasses?" Mimi questioned. "Dude, those are literally EYE-SHIELDS."

"Shut up."

"Oh no, and that's not all!" Roger chimed in. "Shall I tell the story of Stacy Carmichael, your lab partner?!!!"

"NO, PLEASE!" Mark looked tearful. "NOT STACY CARMICHAEL MY LAB PARTNER!"

"Who's Stacy Carmichael?" Angel asked.

"HIS LAB PARTNER." Collins answered, rolling his eyes.

"Ok…" Roger started, laughing. "So, Marky had a crush on Stacy Carmichael, his LAB PARTNER in Honors Chemistry. He spilled acid on poor Benny's head because he was staring at her cleavage."

"Hence the baldness." Benny said sadly. "At one point I had gorgeous shampoo-commercial _hair_."

"Shocked." Angel breathed.

"Anyway, so, Mark wanted to ask her to prom… junior year. And he sidles up to Stacy Carmichael, his lab partner and says, 'Hey toots, wanna create some equilibrium together? I think you're hotter than the Bunsen burner before us, baby. Let me be your _solution_."

At which point every Boho with the exception of Mark laughed until they'd cried their eyes out. Then they put their eyes back in and laughed some more.

"SHUT UP!" Mark banged his fists against his thighs. "SHUT UPPPPPP! SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP! SHUT UP NOW!"

"And that…" Roger said breathlessly, "… is the story of Stacy Carmichaeal, his lab partner."

"What did she say?" Mimi said curiously.

"Um… let's see, 'Fuck off, queer.'" Roger answered. "Or something along those lines."

"Aw, poor Marky." Angel hugged Mark. "That bitch."

"Ahahahaha!" Collins laughed. "Yeah, Marky was a little touched as well. COUGHSTILLIS."

"Aren't most teenagers a little special in their own special ways… special?" Angel asked, trying to make Mark feel better.

Roger leaned against his chair thoughtfully. "Teenagers scare the living shit out of me."

Roger, you aren't Gerard Way. So be quiet.

Ahem.

Just then, a series of loud clanging noises erupted from within the bowels of the RV, and it began spitting smoke.

"HOT DAMN!" Roger yelled, pulling off at a rest stop. "We're barely out of Manhattan! AGAIN?!!"

"Roger, why do you keep saying HOT DAMN?" Mimi asked.

"HOT DAMN!" Roger yelped, as he tripped over his seatbelt (don't ask how he managed this), and hit the concrete face-first.

"Hahah, smooth, Davis. REAL SMOOTH." Maureen laughed and pointed.

Joanne whoop-whooped. Honestly, the woman must be drunk again.

Mimi sighed and helped Roger up, "You alright? Good. Now, let's try and get some help. I told you that your method for fixing the RV wouldn't work."

"Harrumphf." Roger harrumphfed.

"Heffalumps?" Mark questioned.

"Whatever." Angel said, confused, and followed Mimi's lead. "Let's see if any of these nice workers will help us."

"Has this always been there?" Joanne pointed at a rather large tag sprayed onto the side of the RV.

It read: "RD: GANGSTA OF GLORY. WORD."

"Hm… I wonder who wrote that." Roger stated innocently.

"ROGER, YOU VANDAL!" Mimi screamed.

"What, I love vandalism. It's an art form." Roger said proudly.

"Tisk, tisk." Angel said, looking dismayed.

"Vandalism is my middle name, ok?"

"Nuh-uh!" Mark started, "Your middle name is Eliz-"

Roger clapped his hand over Mark's mouth. "Uh… ELIZARDASS!"

"A lizard ass?" Collins asked.

"No… _Elizardass. _It's...um…. Latin?" Roger covered.

"Bullshit." Collins spat.

"GUYS! STOP IT!" Mark yelled, after prying Roger's palm off his lips. "This is getting us nowhere! Now, Roger, don't you think it would be better if we found some help and kept on with the trip?"

"Yes, idiot." Roger said, and then looked confused. "I mean… shitface… I mean…" He snapped his fingers.

"Mark?" Mark suggested.

"Yes, idiot." Roger said. "That's the one. Yes, Markidiot."

"ROGER! PAY ATTENTION!" Mimi screamed in his ear.

"WHAT?" He yelled, rubbing a finger in his ear. "WHAT, MEEMS?!!! WHAT WAS THAT? I DIDN'T QUITE CATCH WHAT YOU SAID! I'M SORRY, YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TO SCREAM A LITTLE LOUDER… DIRECTLY INTO MY EAR THIS TIME!"

"WE NEED TO GET HELP! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!!!"

Roger nodded. "Muffins?"

Mimi groaned.

Joanne then volunteered to go fetch someone to help them out.

Roger looked confused as Joanne trotted away. "Where's she going?"

"TO GET HELP!" Mimi screamed, needing a cough drop for her sore throat.

"Right. Why do we need help again?"

"GRAAGAHAHH!" Mimi screeched, restraining herself from strangling him. "ROGER DAVIS! YOU BETTER SHAPE UP YOUR ACT, YOUNG MAN, OR I MAY JUST HAVE TO…"

"Oooooo…" Angel remarked. "She called you YOUNG MAN, she ain't playin, Rog! This ain't no kid's stuff"

Roger shrugged. "I and Mimi ain't kid's stuff neither."

Suddenly, Microsoft Word had a SPASTIC ATTACK. The grammar police came in and arrested Roger and Angel, but they got off on little punishment for this crime. Just a little community service a.k.a. raking leaves in Tompkins Square Park.

"Damn, Rog. Only you would get community service for using improper grammar." Mark said, giggling.

"Well." Roger said impishly. "At least _I _don't wear _footy_ pajamas. _MADE OF TULLE."_

"BAHAHAAHAH!" Collins laughed drunkenly.

Mark farted. Oops, I mean, pouted. "HEY! You promised not to tell a soul!"

"WHO SAID THAT THERE'S A SOUL????!!!!!" Roger screamed.

"Very funny." Mimi said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Just then, Joanne returned with a burly-looking man whose name tag read "Moe."

"What's your name?" Angel asked, ever-friendly.

"Moe."

"You don't say!"

"I do say. So, can I help you folks?"

"We have a bit of a problem. I hired Joanne as my production manager… and I don't think she knows what the hell she's doing." Maureen blurted.

Joanne whoop-whooped. "HOORAY FOR ME!"

"AHEM." Mimi said. "Anyway… our RV is screwed up and we were hoping that you could fix it because we're trying to get to Florida quickly."

"Mhhmm." Moe said, looking the RV over. "Mhmmmm. MHHMMMM. MHMMMMMMMMM!"

"Well?"

"That'll be 525, 600 dollars."

"WHAT THE DFUCKQUACK?" Roger yelled.

"We… don't have that much." Angel said simply. "Not even close."

"Then I'm afraid you're out of luck. KA-POW." Moe said, in Angel's face.

A collective gasp went around the group.

"Oh, no he didn't!" Angel said, indignant.

Moe smiled smugly.

Maureen stood up, perching herself precariously on top of the damaged RV.

"Uh-oh. I smell a protest!" Mark warned.

Maureen took a deep breath and dramatically glared at Moe. "Once there was a ducky named Lou who was trying to fly South but he got mugged by a bunch of Canada geese and lost all his supplies. BEEDEEBONG. And then, a little parakeet entered, named MOE. The parakeet said, 'Pay up, mofo.' And then Lou kicked Moe in the balls and ran away with Moe's cash. The end. MOO, I mean QUACK!"

Moe sniffled. "That was… beautiful."

"Thank you!" Maureen said bubbilyly. Bubbilylyly. Ly.

"No, really, young lady." Moe addressed her, as she climbed down from atop the RV. "You have such a way with words. The way you fill your mouth with such beautiful sound and story has inspired me."

Joanne was at this point on Flirt-Alert. Available at your local Wal-Mart. Only not really.

Maureen batted her eyelashes. "Well, shucks."

Roger guffawed, "Oh, puh-lease! All Maureen ever fills her mouth with is Stoli, vodka, moooooo, pick-up lines, flirty catchphrases, and the occasional swish of Listerine."

Maureen huffed. "And you, Roger, only fill YOUR mouth with curse words, stale Captain Crunch, Mimi's tongue and your OWN DAMN FOOT."

"Ouch." Angel stated, as Roger stood, stunned.

Joanne, you guessed it… whoop-whooped.

Moe, affected deeply by Mo's performance, smiled. (Hehehe, Moe inspired by Mo. Tehehehe.) Hee-haw.

"HEE-HAW, COOKIE'S FRIEND IS A DONKEY!" Mark squealed. When everyone shot him the archetypal strange look, he added, "Um… film?"

An owl sitting in the tree nearby said, "_HOO!"_

Moe, meanwhile, said, "You guys, I've changed my mind. I will fix your RV for 25 dollars tops."

"Who wears 25 dollar tops here?" Maureen inquired, eyeing everyone.

Mimi, rolling her eyes, thanked Moe and handed him the money. "Here, thanks."

"No problemo, honey." He said, and Mimi turned to face Angel.

"Angel, would you do me a favor and run into that little food mart over there and buy me some Ibuprofen? I need some right about now."

"SURE CHICA!" Angel skipped away.

"Thanks."

Collins, Maureen and Joanne were now playing hopscotch on the freeway nearby. Don't try that at home.

Mark… was filming it. And singing to his iPod of course.

Mimi, with a sigh, turned to Roger, finding Moe gone.

"Roger, where'd Moe go?"

"Who's Moe?

Mimi sighed again, frustrated. "Um… let's think, the guy who was about to fix the RV?"

"Oh him." Roger said.

"Yes?"

"I think I might've… you know… smacked him in the back of the head with a cinder block."

"WHAT???!!!"

Sure enough, Moe lay several feet away, unconscious.

"ROGER!"

"Mimi, he was checking out your ass!"

"Oh really?" Mimi said angrily. "Now what do we do?"

"IDK. My BFF Jill?" Roger suggested.

"You are SO not helping."

"Sorry."

"And where'd that owl go? That was in the tree over there."

"Same."

"WHAT???!!!"

"Miiimmmiiiiiii!" Roger whined. "He was checking out you're A-ASS!" He said in a sing-song voice.

Mimi plopped herself down and sat on the asphalt of the rest stop parking lot, frustrated beyond belief.

Meanwhile, that poor owl, whose name was Cecil, by the way, flew through the air from the impact of the cinder block and landed in the Atlantic Ocean, where he would evolve, grow fins, and write a book about the experience, becoming a millionaire and earning a spot for his novel in Oprah's Book Club.

Meanwhile, Roger remained a dirt-poor, freezing Bohemian.

NEVERTHELESS!

Mimi just looked back and forth between the hopscotch-playing Bohos, Mark the filmmaker, and Roger, whom she remained infuriated with. "Well…" She said to herself. "At least we're out of the city."

Roger stood, bored, twiddling his thumbs. "I'm bored."

"GRRR." Mimi growled.

"I'm hungry."

"GRRR."

"I'm cold." Roger whimpered, sitting beside Mimi and laying his head on her arm. "Be a snugglebunny with me?"

Mimi forced a smile. "Always, Roggie-Poo."

"Yay."

Angel came out to find Mimi and Roger huddled together on the ground/parking lot.

"Here's your Ibuprofen, sweetie." Angel said kindly. "Where's everyone else?"

"Being reckless."

"What else is new?"

"We're waiting for Moe to come to because Roger knocked him out."

"Oh." Angel said cheerfully. "Cool."

Mimi sighed internally. _Not cool. AT ALL. _Then, she noticed something.

"Roger, you have something all over your plaid pants."

"WHATWHATWHATWHAT!!!!!!!!!!!!" Roger began to hyperventilate.

"What is it?" Angel asked, peering at him.

"It's…" Mimi said, eyeing his pants. "Polish."

"Nail polish?" Angel questioned.

"No." Mimi sniffed the pants. Ignore that mental image, readers. "Head polish."

"WTF." Angel stated.

"For like, bald people." Mimi answered.

Roger, who was having trouble breathing, glared, his eyes widening.

"Benny." Mimi and Angel stated solemnly. Roger's eyes traveled to where Benny was watching the other Bohos play hopscotch.

"BENNY!" He roared, standing up. "I WILL RIP HIS TESTICLES OFF WITH… AN EGG BEATER! AND SLASH HIS TIRES!"

Mimi and Angel exchanged a look.

**----------**

**Bahahahahaha. How fun was that?**

**Very fun. I had a good time writing it. Hope you enjoyed.**

**REVIEW PLEASE????!!! Thankies.**


	4. Roger's Adventure

WHAT? AN UPDATE!

Yes, folks. You aren't dreaming.

Blame... or thanks my brother. Who dragged me to the computer and put a Nerf gun to my head.

Yeah, intense.

Enjoy. I hope it was worth the wait.

--

After Moe came to and fixed their RV, the Bohos piled in and got back on the highway, driving a good solid twenty miles before Maureen needed a rest stop. After she did her tinkly business, they hurried back to the RV and sped off. Then, something came up.

A tragedy of epic proportions.

More tragic than Shakespeare.

More tragic than Peter Pan.

That's right, I know it's shocking… but Mark did not know where his scarf was.

He almost starting hyperventilating, but he forced himself to take a deep breath and decided to ask Roger if he knew where it was.

He leaned forward and stretched his head in between Mimi and Roger's seat. Mimi was sound asleep, leaned against the window.

"Hey, Roger… you wouldn't happen to know where my scarf is…OHMYGOD! WHERE'S ROGER?"

Mimi awoke, mumbling sleepily. "Wha…?"

Mark pointed a shaking finger at the driver's seat. "Where is my BFF Roger?"

Mimi shook her head, eyes still closed. "What are talking about Mark, he's sitting right there…?"

Collins piped up from the back, squeezing himself forward to take a peek. "Yeah, man… are you high…? OHMYGODIT'STHECRICKET!"

"What?" Mimi's eyes shot open.

There, in the seat, sat the cricket, who was somehow driving.

Don't ask.

"Uh, uh… betch!" Collins screeched and he pulled an AK-47 from nowhere. "DIE, CRICKET, DIE!" He fired the weapon in the cricket's general direction.

Mimi, of course, was scared to death. "Collins!!"

Angel, in the back, called, "Hey, baby? Do you think you could keep it down just a bit, maybe please? Maureen and I are sleeping… well, we were."

"Sorry, Ang!" Collins apologized.

"It's too late to apologize!!" Mark sang beautifully. "It's too late….!"

"Ehhh…ehhheeehhh." Benny muttered in a Timbaland-like fashion. Then he sighed sadly. "If Roger were here, he'd tell me that's the only thing I'm good at besides being an ass… I miss the booger."

"Wait… Roger's missing?" Joanne asked.

Mimi looked frantic. "ROGER'S MISSING! WHERE IS MY BOYFRIEND?"

Angel raised an eyebrow. "More importantly, who's driving the RV?"

"Um… the cricke-…" Collins started. "Ah, never mind."

"Who's driving now?" Angel asked calmly.

The Bohos all looked up into the front seat.

"OH MY GOD!" Maureen screamed.

Mimi bounced into the front seat, gripping the wheel. "Ok... I got this. Wait… I don't know how to drive!!"

Collins pushed her over. "Move, I'll do it!"

"COLLINS, YOU'RE DRUNK!" Joanne yelled.

"Never stopped me before."

"Whatever!" Joanne muttered. "It's not like I'm a lawyer or anything."

Mimi was still panicking. "GUYS, FOCUS! WHERE IS ROGER?"

"Um… guys? Did anyone actually see him come out of that last rest stop?" Maureen questioned everyone.

Silence hung in the air for a moment.

The cricket chirped.

"OH MY GOD!" Collins roared. "IT SURVIVED! THAT'S IT! JIMINY IS GOING DOWN!!"

He pulled out the gun again, but Angel quickly stuffed her first two fingers in the barrel. "No, baby. That's enough for today. Maybe later, please?"

Collins sat down sullenly. "Only for you, Angelcake."

"Thank you, honey."

"OKAY LISTEN UP!" Mimi screamed. "I think we need to turn this RV around and search for Roger's hot ass RIGHT NOW!"

Collins promptly asked, "Did he sit on a stove?"

"Once. But that's not what I mean, and you know it. TURN THIS RV AROUND, THOMAS." Mimi said heatedly.

"Ok, alright! PUSHY!" Collins protested. And he quickly did an illegal U-turn, hit two cars, a deer, and ran over a road sign.

"Here we go…back to the rest stop. WE'RE COMING, ROGER!"

Meanwhile, miles away, Roger stood up from sitting boredly on the curb. "SHUT UP COLLINS! IT'S NOT LIKE I CAN HEAR YOU!"

Just then, the neglected and forgotten Roger happened to glance down at the parking lot of the rest stop and saw a striped piece of fabric.

"Huh." He muttered, scooping the scarf up and putting it on. "This looks familiar… like my dead girlfriend."

Somewhere, in the world of the dead, April frowned. "I do not look like that moth-eaten, piss-stained, smelly rat nest!"

Startled, Roger looked toward the sky. "God?"

"Hey. Hey you!" A voice said.

Roger stared up at the clouds, panicky. "Oh, Jesus! Oh, God… I'm so sorry… hey, your Godliness… please don't be mad at me…!"

"DAVIS!" The voice continued. "TURN AROUND!"

"YES, YOUR HOLINESS!" Roger shrieked obediently and he swiveled around to see the Man, snickering.

"…oh." Roger said quickly. "Hey, the Man."

"Hello… Roger." He said, in a sinister voice.

"Hey, funny you should turn up here, the Man. I was just thinking about you… and I have an important question."

"Really… you want more drugs?"

"Hugs not drugs, the Man. Hugs not drugs."

"Whatever." The Man laughed evilly.

"Anyway, what I was going to ask you was… when you were a baby, what did they call you? Were you… The Baby or… the Infant? And then, when did you become The Toddler? How about the Child? And then were you the Teenager or The Adolescent? And did you finally grow into the name of The Man at age 18 or 21?"

The Man glared.

"I'm just asking. For real, I'm curious."

The Man pulled out a gun.

"Ohhhh…. shit." Roger threw his hands in the air like he just didn't care. Only he did CARE. 'Cause he's a Carebear. A Carebear with the wrong end of a gun pointed at his face. OH NO! There's not enough caring in Care-a-lot!

"I've been wanting to do this for a long time. You did steal my client."

"Um… hey look, a bird!" Roger pointed at nothing.

"I love birds…" The Man said distantly. "Especially chickadees. But quit distracting me."

He pulled the trigger.

Roger squeezed his eyes shut.

Nothing happened.

"God… am I dead?"

"No. The Roger Fangirls would cry too much."

"Oh… okay."

He reopened his eyes to see The Man looking down the barrel of the gun. "What the-…?"

Just then, Mr. Bullet decided to come out to play.

C'MON KIDS! LET'S SING THE MR. BULLET SONG!

(theme music) OOOOOOOH, MR. BULLET, HE'S NOT YOUR FRIEND, PLAY WITH HIM AND IT COULD BE THE END, MR. BULLET IS NOT A TOY, SO KEEP AWAY LITTLE GIRLS AND BOYYYSSSSS!!

Anyway, it shot The Man in the face.

He fell onto the sidewalk, blood everywhere.

"There's a lot of guns in this chapter…" Roger mused, still looking at the sky. Then he looked down. "Whoa… um… I should probably call an ambulance or something…. hm." He looked around. "BUFFALO WILD WINGS? THAT'S THE SHIT RIGHT THERE!"

And he ran to get some chicken-related sustenance.

Back on the RV, Mimi was in full Panic Mode.

"OH MY GOD WHAT IF HE GOT LOST? OR IF HE GOT SHOT!! WHAT IF HE GOT HIT BY A UPS TRUCK?? Or what if… maybe… OH MY GOD, what if he got stampeded by a raging herd of watermelephants??"

"What are watermelephants?" Collins asked. "I don't remember seeing those at the zoo."

"You don't want to know, Collins…" Mimi muttered strangely, eyes teary. "Trust me, you don't."

"Mimi, chica." Angel said soothingly, reaching up to wrap an arm around her bestest friend. "It'll be okay... and when it's all over, we can all go shopping together and be merry."

"Awww… Angel you're the best accessory a girl could ever have." Mimi stated slowly. "ROGER, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU??"

At Buffalo Wild Wings, Roger looked up. "GOSH, SHUT UP, I CAN'T FREAKING HEAR YOU, WEIRDO!!" He reached into his bucket of saucy wings.

"AAAAHHH…" He yelled, swiping at his tongue after the first bite. "I SAID MEDIUM SPICY NOT FUCKING FIERY SPICY!" He screamed at the man at the counter.

"Um… sorry?"

"NOT GOOD ENOUGH!" Roger retorted, stopping to stuff a hot wing into each of the man's ears.

"AHHHH , it's burning my eardrums!!"

"Um… sorry?" Roger offered mockingly. "What do you think it did to my tongue, asshole? NOW I CAN'T MAKE OUT WITH MIMI FOR A WEEK! Only not really, I'll find a way around this catastrophe."

He stuffed five ice cubes from his drink into his mouth.

Then, he walked out the door.

Blue and red lights were flashing as police cars had surrounded the rest stop.

A cluster of officers were huddled around The Man.

Roger looked at them and spit out the ice cubes. And they looked back, staring.

"Oh hey." Roger greeted.

They eyed him. "Do you know what happened to this man?"

"Not this man. THE Man. Get it right."

The officers looked skeptical. "Ok… do you know what happened to THE Man?"

"Yeah… he shot himself."

"OH, really?"

"Yeah."

"Then what's that all over your hands?"

Roger looked down, seeing his fingers dripping with red chicken sauce.

"Oh…shit."

And he booked it.

The officers exchanged a look. "Who wants to chase him?"

(Cricket chirp)

On the highway, Collins screamed, "OH MY GOD, THAT CRICKET HAS A BROTHER!"

"Honey?" Angel piped up. "I'm sure there's millions of crickets on Earth."

Collins gasped. "Let's nuke 'em."

At this time, Roger reached the edge of the highway, screaming at the top of his lungs and gesturing wildly with his messy hands.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!" He flung his hands out at all the passing cars.

A soccer mom in a van pulled over, looking sympathetic. "Oh my God, you poor man!"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!" Roger continued.

"Joey, pass me the diaper bag. This is an emergency." She said urgently. "I repeat: this is not a drill. I need the Kandoo wipes immediately."

"Roger that, Mommy." A voice in the back called. "I'm on it."

(The Final Countdown started playing)

IT'S THE FINAL COUNTDOWN!! DODODODO!! DODODODODO!! DODODODO!! DODODODODO!!

She tossed Roger a couple wet wipes.

"There you go, darling." She cooed. "I'm worried about you, do you have somewhere to go?"

After wiping his hands, Roger peered over the highway. "Actually… I need to get to that RV…"

"Oh, ok. Well… good luck with that…!" She drove away.

"What the hell?" Roger asked. "Bitch."

The car stopped. "Uh-oh."

And he bolted into the traffic toward the RV.

Collins meanwhile, was driving along, driving along… and suddenly Mark was screaming in the back, "I GOTTA GO TO THE BATHROOM, COLLINS!"

"NOT NOW, DAMMIT!!"

It was at this moment that Roger ran out in front of the RV. Remember he's not that bright.

"COLLINS!! IT'S MEEEE!!" He yelled, waving his newly clean hands frantically.

Mimi, meanwhile had moved to the back and was sobbing on Angel's shoulder.

Collins hummed along with the radio. "You guys hear something?"

THUD.

Collins looked up, seeing a mixture of plaid, leather, and Roger on the windshield.

"HOLY SHIT, I HIT ANOTHER DEER!"

"WHAT?" Joanne screamed. "COLLINS! THE ROAD!"

"Damn, deer! MOVE IT!" Collins swerved, trying to see.

The RV hit something, which the readers soon realized was the berm of the highway. It careened and rocked, and Roger was thrown high into the air.

Collins looked out the cleared windshield, the RV still plugging forward at intense speeds.

"Good news, guys! A CLIFF!"

"A WHAT??" Angel yelled.

"A CLIFF!"

"CLIFFORD THE BIG RED DOG??" Mark shrieked, a little too hopefully.

"No, just a cliff." Collins said happily.

"Oh… AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!" The Bohos screamed as the RV fell down the side of the steep cliff.

SMASH!!

"OH MY GOD WE'RE BURNING ALIVE!! I CAN"T FEEL MY LEGS!!" Collins yelled, as the RV landed at the bottom of the cliff.

The rest of the Bohos sighed. "Collins… we're okay."

"I'M ALIVE!!" Benny screamed, having been nowhere for the beginning of this chapter.

"Benny, where were you?" Maureen demanded.

"I had to go to the bathroom, sorry." Benny excused himself from being absent.

"Uh… Benny?" Mark asked. "Where did you just go to the bathroom? We stopped at a rest stop not too long ago…"

"Oh… uh…" Benny said awkwardly. "Hey, you guys might not wanna open the cooler for awhile. Actually never."

"WHAT??" Collins yelled. "MY BEER'S IN THERE!"

"That's not all that's in there." Benny stated.

"EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!" Maureen yelled.

THUD. Something hit the windshield. Something heavy and unconscious.

"OH MY GOD!! IT'S A DEER THAT LOOKS LIKE ROGER!" Collins yelled at maximum volume. "GET IT!" He pulled out his AK-47.

Roger's eyes fluttered open. "NO! NO! COLLINS!! IT'S ME!!"

The impact caused the RV to tilt and Roger's limp body slid off the windshield and onto the side window. His head came through the window.

"HEY, ROGER!" Collins greeted happily. "Where's your body?"

"Outside the RV." Roger said angrily, his head stuck in the cracked open window.

"Oh, well… hey Roger. Where were you?"

"Hey, Collins." Roger said through gritted teeth. "You want to know where I was? I was…"

"HEYYY!" Mark yelled. "THERE'S MY SCARF! It was hanging on this scarf hanger the whole time. COOL! Who installed this in the RV?!"

And he yanked the scarf hard, Roger's face turning blue.

"ROGER!" Mimi yelled, relieved. She kissed his face 525, 600 times. "MARK, YOU'RE KILLING HIM!"

"My bad." Mark said softly as Mimi unraveled the scarf. She took his face into her hands.

"I WAS SO WORRIED!!"

"Hey… Mimi, you'll never believe what I've been through…" Roger began, regaining his breath and color in his face as Mark snatched up his scarf greedily.

"OH SCARFALOMEW!" He yelled, kissing it.

"What happened to you?" Mimi questioned.

"Well, I…"

"ROGER?" Maureen yelled urgently.

Roger, fed up with it all, screamed, "WHAT??"

"Uh… there's a raccoon sniffing your butt."

"GREAT!!" Roger said, in fake-happiness. "Hot damn, that's wonderful, Maureen."

"Did damn sit on the stove too?" Collins asked.

"ENOUGH!" Mimi said. "Maureen, is it still smelling his butt?"

"Um… yes. And uh… it has yellow eyes and it's foaming at the mouth."

"Well… THAT'S JUST PERFECT!" Roger yelled.

"LET HIM IN!" Mimi told Collins, concerned for the well-being of Roger's butt.

A few moments later, Roger clambered into the RV.

The raccoon got bored and wandered off.

With a sigh, Roger settled into the skewed vehicle. "I don't feel so good…"

"Aw, baby, you've a rough day…" Mimi said, running her hands through his hair.

"PUFF DADDY!" Collins yelled.

"SHUT UP COLLINS!" Roger screamed.

Collins sniffed. "You mean we're not in the band?"

"Who got him drunk?"

"What kind of question is that?" Mimi asked Roger.

"I dunno."

"Well… let's examine the situation." Joanne assessed. "We're trapped in a sideways RV at the bottom of a cliff."

"Hey, guess what guys? I don't have to pee anymore." Mark informed his friends.

"Lovely." Angel said flatly.

Silence.

The cricket spoke up.

"…. Angel?" Collins whispered. "Where's the chainsaw?"

--

REMEMBER TO REVIEW! (Please and thank you!! And try not to sit on any stoves. PUFF DADDY!)


	5. Ranch Dressing, Aliens, and Cap'n Crunch

Whoa. It's been like 525, 600 years since I updated this. And I missed it! It's sort of a collab with my brother, so we have to set aside time to write it, you know?

I'm busy, and I'm sorry. Not only is it SENIOR YEAR, but I've been involved in the spring musical (BYE BYE BIRDIE), and that equals less free time. Closing night is tonight, woooooooooo!

ENJOY!!

* * *

A silence hung in the air around the Bohos as they sat in the totaled RV, their belongings strewn everywhere and broken into pieces. They stared at each other, wondering what to do. The cricket broke the quiet. Collins started to stand up, shaking his fist in anger and opening his mouth, about to say something, but he gave up and sat back down, wrapping an arm lazily around Angel. "What's the use?" He asked no one in a hopeless voice.

"Anyone have any idea how we can get out of this?" Roger asked the other Bohemians, his voice soft and pathetic.

"We should call someone!" Mark suggested, thinking he was a genius.

"I tried already," Joanne spoke up, "No reception at the bottom of a cliff." "DAMN." Collins breathed, disappointed.

(CAP'N CRUNCH WHIS-IS-TLE)

"Cap'n Crunch?" Mark asked, hearing the strange sound. The Bohos looked around, confused. There was a loud whirring sound. They all stumbled out of the messed up RV and looked up to see a helicopter with the Cap'n Crunch logo on the side.

"OH FUCK!" Maureen screamed, "We don't have to be CRUNCHITIZED, do we?"

"I think that'd be pretty fucking awesome..." Roger muttered distantly. "Roger, baby, did you hit your head?" Mimi questioned.

"Mebbe." Roger said quickly, with shifty eyes.

"HOW DID THEY FIND US?" Angel asked, thinking it was a miracle.

Collins, eyes raging, yelled furiously, "OH MY GOD THAT CRICKET WAS AN INSIDE MAN! FUCKING SPYING ON US AND REPORTING OUR ACTIONS TO THE CAP'N HIMSELF! THAT LITTLE FUCKER, DAMN YOU! I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE AND I'VE SEEN WHERE YOUR CRICKET ASS SLEEPS! I SWEAR TO STOLI THAT YOUR FAT BITCH CRICKET MAMA WILL CRY WHEN SHE SEES WHAT I'VE DONE TO YOU!"

Angel soothed him, rubbing his shoulder. "Collins... breathe..."

"Guys???" Benny spoke up, scared. "That's no helicopter!! THAT'S A UFO! Let's try and establish communication... uh.... AYE YIE YAY AYE YA!" He screamed, remembering it from some movie he saw once.

Joanne squinted as the craft landed and a man popped out to greet them. "No, it's alright guys, I think they are here to help!"

"WE COME IN PEACE!!!!" Benny shrieked, falling to his knees.

The man smirked. "Need some help folks?"

"Yeah! Thanks!" Mimi told him and he motioned for them to get on the helicopter.

"OH WOW!" Mark screeched excitedly. "Is Cap'n Crunch piloting?"

"Sure, little guy..." The man assured Mark. "You people are a little more worse for wear than we expected, but that's okay. Everyone climb in!"

The Bohos all took seats. Collins stepped in, dubious. "Where do I sit?"

"In the back!" The man shouted over the din.

"It's 'cause I'm black, ain't it?" Collins screamed tearfully. No one heard him. He slumped into the seat, staring woefully up at the other Bohos, all crowded together and smiling. "I'm alone!" He wailed, then a cricket chirped. He heard it because it was on his shoulder. Angrily, he slapped at it. It jumped away. "JIMINY IS A FUCKING STALKER, GODDAMN!"

Benny was still freaking out, frightened tears streaming down his face. "FUCKING HELL!" He yelled. "WE SURRENDERED OVERSELVES TO THE ALIENS? WHY? OH MY GOD THEY ARE GOING TO PERFORM FREAKO SCIENCE EXPERIMENTS ON US AND TAKE US TO THEIR HOME PLANET AND PUT US IN CAGES AND THE OTHER ALIENS WILL POKE US WITH STICKS AND THEN THEY'LL EAT US AND AAAAAAH I'M SO SCARED, WE'RE GOING TO DIE!! WE'RE GOING TO CRASH BECAUSE THE ALIENS DON'T KNOW HOW TO NAVIGATE OUR ATMOSPHERE! WE'RE GOING TO BLOW UP! I THINK I'M GOING TO PUKE!" Benny sobbed.

"Now you listen here!" Roger grabbed Benny by the collar. Benny whimpered, gulping. "Even if we're... horribly MANGLED... there will be no sad faces on Christmas."

"So..." Angel spoke up to change the subject. "How did you find us, anyway?" The man smiled. "We put tracking devices in the winnings bits of cereal. You ate it for breakfast this morning, right? We tracked you through the chips in your digestive systems. All of you had them... except one. Benjamin Coffin?"

"The third." Benny said through tears. "And um... I'm sorry. Don't eat me; alien.... please... my tracking chip... uh... I left it in our cooler... it got ruined in the wreckage!"

"Fair enough." The man said. "We still found you didn't we? That's all that matters."

"Yeah... that's not creepy at all." Roger's sarcasm said.

"Here's what we're going to do." The guy told them. "You guys need some new stuff for the vacay, so we're going to drop you off at a convenience store. We'll pick you up in an hour and then take you to the resort by helicopter. There, you'll receive a rental car instead of the RV and your rooms in the hotel."

"Sounds great..." Mimi said, feeling the stress melt away.

"NO! DON'T FALL FOR IT, EVERYONE! DON'T FUCKING TRUST THEM! THEY REALLY ARE ALIENS!! IT'LL BE LIKE ONE OF THOSE PEPSI COMMERICIALS WHERE THE DUDE REACHES UP AND THERE'S A ZIPPER ON HIS FOREHEAD AND HE PULLS IT DOWN AND HE'S NOT REALLY HUMAN UNDERNEATH!"

"Was that Pepsi?" The man asked.

"SHUT THE HELL UP, ALIEN! HOW THE FUCK WOULD YOU KNOW WHAT PEPSI EVEN IS? DO THEY HAVE THAT ON YOUR PLANET??!!"

"No..." The dude laughed. "But we have Sprite!"

"HOLY SHIT HE JUST ADMITTED IT!" Benny squealed. The man motioned to another guy up front.

"Hey, Gregg! Can you throw Independence Day Boy here in the back with that wackjob who screams at imaginary insects?"

"DAMN, YOU REALLY ARE RACIST!" Roger remarked.

"Um... I'm still here?" Joanne waved her arms around.

"Oh yeah, I forgot about you."

"Don't worry, that happens all the time." Joanne said sadly.

"NOOOO!" Benny screamed, as Gregg grabbed him and led him toward where Collins was. "NO PLEASE! NOT THE EXPERIMENT ROOM! I DON'T WANT TO DIE! I'M TOO YOUNG! I STILL HAVE TO MAKE A CYBER STUDIO! AND MEET THE TELETUBBIES IN PERSON! AND GET MIMI TO LOVE ME! AND... AND.... AHHHHH!" "Great..." Collins moaned. "SEGREGATION IS ILLEGAL, YOU PUNKS! YOU CAN'T JUST THROW ALL THE BLACKS IN THE BACK!"

"BACK IN BLAAACCCK!" Roger metal-screamed, air guitaring dramatically. "Excuse me, sir. You are in direct violation of Rule Number One on this aircraft." The man slapped a poster on the wall and read, "No singing AC/DC. I might have to throw you in the back too."

"I'm not black." Roger said blankly. "And I'll like to see you try to throw me in the back."

"OH!" The man exclaimed. "Tooo baaaad. Rule Number Two is No Threatening the Random Racist Man on the Helicopter. So sorry." And he forcefully snatched Roger up from his seat and yanked him to the back, flinging him in with Collins and Benny.

"Aw fucking hell!" Collins screamed. "Now you hate white boys, too? That's just wrong... Benny you may be right... he must be an alien... there's no other explanation."

"I'm scared!" Mark whined, scooting closer to Mimi and whimpering.

"Don't worry, Marky... he hasn't said anything about hating albinos." "ALBINOS???!!!!!!!!!" The man screamed. "I WATCHED, WIDE-EYED AT THE TENDER AGE OF SEVEN AS AN ALBINO STEPPED ON MY PET ANT AND SQUISHED IT UNDER HIS BIG ASS FOOT! HIS NAME WAS ALVIN AND HE WAS MY LIFE!"

"Wow... no wonder he hates guys who scream at bugs..." Collins whispered to Roger.

"YOU'RE LUCKY I DON'T KICK YOUR PALE ASS OFF THIS CRAFT RIGHT NOW! BECAUSE WHEN I WAS TEN, A GANG OF ALBINOS KNOWN SIMPLY AS THE CAULIFLOWER BOYS BURNED DOWN MY HOUSE WITH HIDDEN VALLEY RANCH DRESSING AS THE FUEL FOR THE FLAMES! TO THIS DAY I CAN'T EAT RANCH DRESSING!"

"I'm sorry..." Mark started to say.

"I won't hurt you." The man calmed down suddenly. "You're lucky I don't discriminate based on skin color."

"DUDE YOU JUST SAID YOU WERE RACIST!" Roger yelled pointedly.

"SHUT UP!" He screamed back.

In the end, all the Bohos ended up in the back cargo hold of the copter, because as it turns out, the co-captain hated AC/DC, blacks, Mexicans, drama queens, and albinos. He and the cricket remained in seats. He sat for awhile, welcoming the absence of the annoying passengers.

Then an infamous smell wafted to his nostrils. He stood up, instantly suspicious of the cargo hold. He moved toward the door he'd slammed shut, wrenching it open.

He stepped in, gasping.

Collins had his fly unzipped and he was urinating proudly against the wall of the copter, while loading his MP40 gun carefully.

Angel was in the corner playing Connect 4 with herself.

Benny was crying into a cell phone, "NO! YOU HAVE TO LISTEN TO ME! 911, THIS IS AN EMERGENCY! WE'VE BEEN ABDUCTED BY ALIENS AND WE'RE ON A UFO RIGHT NOW!"

Roger and Mimi were half naked on top of one another and Maureen and Joanne were grabbing each other in... certain places.

The co-captain's eyes darted from one scene to the next, finally resting upon Mark, who was hunched over a Tupperware container of lettuce and vegetables... chomping on salad with HIDDEN VALLEY RANCH DRESSING.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" He screamed, lunging toward him.

"GOOD NEWS! WE'RE JUST ABOUT TO LAND AT THE CONVENIENCE STORE! THANKS FOR FLYING WITH US!" The pilot's voice came over the PA.

The Bohos grabbed parachutes and jumped off before any bodily harm could come to them.

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How fun was that? Don't worry, the next chapter is where it really gets good…

Reviews motivate a quicker update, btw. :D


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